Sharingan Survivor
by Gaara X Itachi
Summary: Gaara has just massacred the entire leaf village under Shukaku's will. He has just come to, and he's worried that the one person he is friends with is dead. Implied GaaIta one-shot


Sharingan Survivor

"No!" they screamed. "Please, I beg of you, spare me!"  
>It didn't listen to there insolent pleas. It didn't hear them beg for mercy. All it could do was anxiously wait to see their fresh, warm blood soup out of them, as they lay dead on the cold ground.<br>First was the Hyuga clan, then the people at the training field. Next there was the hospital, where the Hokage, this villages leader, just so happened to be, and will remain for all eternity. So on, and so forth, through the village hidden amongst the leaves.  
>Shukaku, the darn monster he was, had over taken it's host. His host happened to be the 13 year old, red-haired boy, whom his mother named Gaara.<br>His story is a long one, one to be saved for another time.  
>Lets get one thing straight. Gaara hates hurting people. He doesn't like the blood, nor the screams, nor the smell. He begged the caged demon within him to stop, but Shukaku wouldn't listen to the screams, so why should he listen to Gaara? The poor, weak boy could barely carry around a gourd of sand.<br>Eventually, as always, the poor sap would always give up and let whatever happen, just happen.  
>This specific day, however, Gaara fought hard. For, you see, Gaara had met someone the day before. Someone who just so happened to live in this village, Konohagakure, the village being destroyed by the one-tailed monster.<br>This person was special to Gaara. He was his only friend. And he was about to be destroyed...  
>This brave little boy, with his sea-foam green eyes, and pale skin, fought as hard as he could. Of corse, Shukaku was a tough opponet. He alone stood no chance, even chancing at death.<br>"You have the audacity to come up against me, boy?" Shukaku screamed, seemingly inside Gaara's head. "You dare face me, nonwithstanding the notion of defeat?" He laughed so hard, his yellow and black eyes seemed to come to tears. "You truly are one of a kind, kid. I may keep you around, just to watch you suffer."  
>Gaara stared in horror at the beast that rested in the beastly, seemingly suiting, cage in his mind. He had nothing else to say. In fact, even if he were to have something to say, would he dare? Could he possibly have the slightest chance against this horrid creature? If he tried, would he live to tell the tale?<br>He immediately thought of his favorite book, The Tell-Tale Heart, by Edgar Allan Poe.  
>The scenes seemed to roll through his mind. The happy old man, with the eye like a volture. His keeper, the narrator of the story, seemed loving toward him, as Gaara had thought the Shukaku felt about him all those years ago. However, one day the keeper killed the old man, so he'd no longer have to stare at the distracting feind that was his eye. He suffocated him, then cut up his limbs, placing them under the floorboard. In a way, there was a relation. The Shukaku ever so slowly burried Gaara deeper and depper into these horrid thoughts. So deep, in fact, he was able to easily over take the boys fragile body, forcing it to destroy.<br>He snapped back to reality. He was in a little neighborhood in the village. The problem was, all the people were dead. There was no life anywhere. In the entire village, the screams had stopped. No moaning or groaning, no scratching to get away, not even a heart beat, other than his own. Wait, there was another! Only one, but that still meant life. The Shukaku, even with the energy he had left, backed off. He let Gaara regain control, but he didn't leave. He could never leave.  
>All scratched up, he walked toward the other heart beat. He was breathing heavy, and his heart raced. He was sure the sound could be heard for miles around, but, still, it was only audible to him.<br>He slowly edged around to the door of what looked to be an old home, and looked inside. All he saw were shadows, broken dishes, and over-turned furniture. He continued on, further into the house. He came upon the room where the living soul rested, and quietly, like the man from the Tell-Tale Heart, opened the door, slowly sticking his head in to see a breathing, long haired male sleeping on the bed. He smiled brightly, knowing it was the one person he'd hoped would survive. Knowing he hadn't killed an entire village. Knowing that the Shukaku actually listened, atleast some, to Gaara's own feelings. Knowing, for sure, that he, no matter how fragile, could over-throw a gigantic monster locked forever away inside of him.


End file.
